Birthright

to the last day of it. Look,” said Hill, clasping and unclasping his hands. “You were born handsome,

articulate, and likable. I mean it. I've always liked you, and I like you even now, when you're throwing both our careers down the drain. You come on like a forceful but benevolent father that everyone automatically trusts. Just give the mess to Josh; he'll take care of it. The problem is that you've never had to use that thing you call a brain a day of your life. Everything comes easy to Godlike father images, and when you needed some dirty work done, someone like me has always been around to do it. Not that we've minded. But now you're Governor of Deluros VIII, and there's no higher office a human can aspire to the way the Democracy's set up. Now you've finally got to deliver instead of going after the job of the guy who's next in line above you. And if you can't make the decision and take the kind of action that's required, then let me or someone else do it in your name, or that handsome, noble face and lordly demeanor are going to get expurgated from the history book faster than you can imagine.” “Well, I'm sure as hell not going to go down in history as the man who started the first galactic-scale war!” said Bellows. “I don't plan to be remembered as the greatest genocidal maniac of all time.” “It's not a matter of genocide,” said Hill. “It's simply a matter of testing the opposition, pushing and probing until you find a weak spot, then plugging the gap and looking for more. No one's advocating cutting off our noses to spite our faces; we need the other races as much as we ever did, perhaps more. But we need them on our terms, not theirs.” “We've been through all this before,” said Bellows, glancing down at his appointments calendar. “Evidently it hasn't done much good up to now,” said Hill. “Dammit, Josh, I know that you've got reservations about it, but the Governorship is no place for vacillation. Sooner or later it's got to come, and it might as well be sooner.”

“If it could be bloodless, I'd have no hesitation,” said Bellows. “But these are sentient beings, Mel, not so many pieces on a gameboard.”

“Begging your pardon, but we areall just pieces on a gameboard. A politician is successful or unsuccessful by virtue of how well or poorly he manipulates the pieces.” “Mel, if Man is to rule the galaxy—and I'm convinced he is—he's got to do so by exhibiting leadership in those areas that truly show his worth: industry, dignity, intellect. No simple show of force will make us fit to rule; if anything, it goes to prove the point that we're not yet capable of doing so.” “That's beautiful rhetoric, Josh, and I hope you put it in your memoirs,” said Hill, “but it's a bunch of ivory-tower gobbledegook. Religion, morality, and Joshua Bellows to the contrary, Man is neither good nor bad, pure nor impure. He is simply Man, and his destiny, if he has one, is to make the most of all of his gifts, without attempting to place values upon them. If he has a notion to grasp at the stars, then it's his duty to do so in the best and most efficient way he can; and if he fails, well, at least he did his damnedest. But Man can't just spout pretty platitudes while there's anything in his universe lacking accomplishment. I've heard it said that Man is a social animal. Some deeper thinkers have concluded that he's a political animal. I've known women who swore he was a sexual animal. None of them are totally wrong, but they haven't quite got around to the truth of it. Man is acompetitive animal. Philosophers dream of utopias in which every need is cared for, and there is an inordinate amount of time for contemplation. Utopia, hell—that's madness! Man's living in utopia right now, a time filled with as many challenges as he can handle. But he can't start meeting those challenges until you give the word.” “And you say they're preparing to throw me out of office if I don't give it.”